


Does Your Lover Know

by MerlinOfTheShire



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Awkward Flirting, Based on an ABBA Song, Comedy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dancing, Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Pining Jaskier, References to ABBA, Romance, Singing, Two Actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinOfTheShire/pseuds/MerlinOfTheShire
Summary: Geralt gets cursed by a witch to only be able to sing in place of talking. Jaskier believes the only way to break the curse is to, well, sing.Naturally, Geralt's not to keen.OrHopeless pinning through parodied ABBA songs.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 255





	Does Your Lover Know

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own The Witcher or ABBA, or Mamma Mia!
> 
> A/N 
> 
> Here ya go, WaffleSoprano!

**Does your Lover Know?**

He strummed at his lute relentlessly, walking ahead of Geralt, singing a tune to himself.

“Will you just fucking shut up, Jaskier!”

Jaskier spins around, in the slightest bit bothered. He understood it was ‘quite difficult’ for the Witcher do address anyone without including a form of vulgarity into the sentence. “Someone’s in a mood,” he says anyway, walking backwards instead of stopping. “What if I did? You’d get bored before you knew it and miss my singing terribly. Filling-less pie or not.”

Geralt shakes his head, looking elsewhere. “I’ve never liked any pie, filled or not.”

He mocks a frown, “come now. You’d go so mad without my voice you’d fill the endless silence with your own singing eventually. Mark my words.”

Geralt’s eyes flash a darker shade of amber, “I would _not_ sing.”

Jaskier snorts, almost tripping over a loose stone. “Probably for the best. It would likely be quite damaging to your reputation. You know, with the whole menacing and brooding thing you’ve got going.”

Geralt slows Roach, looking over his shoulder. “Jaskier.”

He carries on walking, “imagine it, a _singing_ Witcher.”

Geralt brings Roach to a halt, his teeth starting to bear. “ _Jaskier-“_

He grins, ignoring him and turning around, “I can see you slashing down your enemies to the tune of _Toss a Coin_ -“

Oh shit, there’s a Witch.

\-------

Well, this was probably his fault.

Oops.

Geralt's been silently brooding for the last hour, expression sullen as he made camp. The Witcher has made a point of not saying a word to him, with only the occasional glare to confirm he was aware of his existence. He's doomed to silence, forever. Only grunts and the occasional 'hmm'. How boring, nothing has changed.

What was it the Witch had said, ‘ _No words will be spoken until the wolf does sing?’_ Doesn’t sound like much of a curse to him, it doesn’t even rhyme.

Wait.

_Until the wolf does sing?_

He looks to Geralt, a terrible, wicked and potentially very entertaining idea springing to mind. No, he shouldn’t…

But he will.

“Geralt,” he says, “could you please talk to me?”

Geralt growls, finally turning his attention towards him. “I don’t want to talk, Jaskier. Because _when I start to sing-“_

Geralt clamps his mouth shut, eyes growing wide.

He raises an eyebrow, because he’s a little shit.

Geralt goes to speak, “I don’t want to talk _because everyone listens when I start to sing. I’m so grateful and proud; all I want is to sing it out lo-“_ He clamps his mouth shut again, a horrified expression on his face.

Jaskier loses any control he had over his laughter, snorting from the effort to contain it. “Geralt,” he manages, “I think you might be a singing Witcher.”

Geralt deliverers a swift kick to a nearby log, does not break his toe, and sends it across the camp. “That fucking _Witch!”_ He turns to Jaskier, “this is your fault, if you hadn’t been screaming about how you wished I would sing, s _o I say thank you for the music-_ Fuck! _The songs I’m singing-“_ Geralt manages to cut himself off. He brings his hands to his hair with a growl, breathing hard.

He gets up, going to Geralt. Carefully, he pulls the man’s hands away, saving the silvery locks. “Breathe, Geralt,” he says, letting his hands slide into Geralt’s. “We’ll sort it out.”

Geralt does breathe, eventually. He also doesn’t pull away. “I need to break the spell,” he growls, “ _I’m under their spell-“_

And then he’s storming away.

Jaskier swallows. Well, this is _not_ what he had meant.

\-------

Geralt refuses to say a word. Or sing one, for that matter. He’s just sitting there, up on Roach’s back as they walk. They're looking for a ‘cure’ apparently. It’s whole different kind of silence. He's also pretty sure the cure is a tad simpler than Geralt thinks it is.

He sighs, tapping his shoulder strap, “I think if you just _sing,_ Geralt, this will all be done with. You’ve just got to sing, that’s it. Properly, anyway. A whole song.”

The Witcher shakes his head, keeping his lips sealed. He’s almost … _embarrassed?_

Before he can think better of it, he falls in line with Geralt, nudging his knee, “It’s just me. No one else will hear.”

Geralt urges Roach into a trot.

\-------

Turns out, despite the wonderful gift that was Geralt (almost) singing, he in fact missed Geralt’s (however limited) conversations. The man was insistent upon not singing, which Jaskier firmly believed to be the only way to break this stupid curse.

“You could just _try_ my theory,” he says, stoking the fire. “I would really like for you to speak again, Geralt. Please, if not for me than for yourself. You can’t keep grunting or passing notes whenever you need to communicate.”

Geralt grunts, passing a hastily scribbled note.

He rolls his eyes, taking it.

 _I can’t fucking sing._

Jaskier smirks, despite himself. “You weren’t so bad, if I do say so myself. We could be a double act.” There already fucking are at this point. 

Geralt passes another note.

_Why the fuck do I let you follow me everywhere?_

Offended, he glares up at the Witcher- but Geralt’s smiling, and he realises that somehow there wasn’t any maliciousness to the Witcher's words. Smiling back, he bumps his shoulder into the man, “cause you love me, obviously.”

Geralt goes still, lips pursed.

He almost snorts. “Look, I’ll help you,” he says, still smiling. “Okay, eh... _I was so lonesome, I was blue…”_ He gestures his hand at Geralt in a swopping motion, signalling for him to continue.

Geralt raises an eyebrow.

He drops his hand, exasperated. “Oh come on, _I couldn’t help it, It had to be you and I…”_

Geralt remains decidedly silent.

He pouts, mocking disappointment, “ _always thought you knew the reason why…”_

Geralt swallows, “Jaskier, stop.”

He holds Geralt’s eye, feeling a bit mischievous. “Make me?”

Geralt sighs, “Jaskier, please. _I cant take a chance on a bard like you-_ _“_ He clamps his mouth shut, again.

Jaskier smirks, folding his arms. "And why not?”

The Witcher turns around, yellow eyes boring into him, “ _it’s something I couldn’t do.”_

 _You almost kissed me a few weeks ago._ He circles the man, “vague as ever, Geralt. Come on, you can do better.”

Geralt lifts an incredulous eyebrow, “ _there’s that look, in your eyes…”_

He snorts, “not that you can talk _.”_

But Geralt’s already walking away. To Roach, presumably.

 _“Jaskier, you’re only a bard.”_

He storms after him, “what’s _that_ got to do with it. You know I’m a noble- Wait, is it because I’m not some Witcher or a Mage or- You _know_ damn well that I’m capable of defending myself well enough, _and you,_ if you remember-“

Geralt turns to him. " _And you can talk til’ I’m crazy. Flirt a little, maybe,”_ Geralt sings, steadying him. “ _Does your lover know that you’re out?”_

He holds onto Geralt’s arms, still a little off balance. “I told you, before, that's not...Haven’t you noticed I haven’t been... I just want _you_. _”_

And then suddenly Geralt becomes stiff. “Jaskier, I-” The frown returns to his face, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at him. Jaskier sees him swallow, “…let’s not speak of this again.”

Jaskier feels the little pit in his stomach grow. Covering it with a forced smile, he claps his hands together. “ _See_ , I told you. Singing would do the trick. Now you can go back to three-word sentences and grunts”

Geralt gives him a look, “hmm.”

* * *

He is almost asleep when he feels Jaskier shift closer. The bard's heart and breathing are still slow, so he is still asleep. Not a choice movement than. At least, not a conscious one. He sighs, wondering what possessed him to lay his bed role so close to the man. It’s not a cold night, there isn’t even a breeze. So he can’t blame wanting to protect the bard from the weather, like he has before.

He rolls over, facing Jaskier. He’s got an arm outstretched. Almost reaching. Maybe he should just let…

No.

He’s a Witcher.

And Jaskier is a human.

It would be a lie to say he was not willing to bed down and spend the night with a willing tavern girl. But this… It’s not as simple as having a little ‘love affair’ and moving on. It's _more_ to Jaskier.

And to him.

But he’s a Witcher.

And if he did make that choice, to _let go._ To let himself love, completely. Fully. _Forever._ Like he wants to.

He'd still have to live Jackier’s lifetime several times over.

Several times over, without Jaskier.

The bards face is unlined still, despite their years of travel. His hair still rich and dark, unstreaked with silver. But for how long? He’d love him regardless...

But that’s why he can't.

Because he’d still love him, several lifetimes over. Forever.

Without him.

He breathes. “ _Now I can see you are beginning to care,”_ he sings quietly, brushing Jackier’s hair away from his brow. “ _But Jaskier, believe me. It’s better to forget me…_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, turned comedy into angst. Again. 
> 
> Gee, Geralt's afraid to lose Jaskier. Do you reckon he might do something drastic like verbally pushing Jaskier away to spare himself of pain? Who knows...
> 
> But don't worry, I'm sure Geralt will figure out that Jaskier is immortal eventually. 
> 
> But ABBA!!!! Right???
> 
> Two songs (and bits of others) in one!


End file.
